


I promise

by Emilia3546



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Illyrian Camps (ACoTaR), Illyrian uprising, POV Nesta Archeron, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:42:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28391871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emilia3546/pseuds/Emilia3546
Summary: Nesta has been waiting for too long, she can't fly, can't fight with the legion, but making battle plans can only alleviate so much worry, Cassian was supposed to be back ages ago.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	I promise

**Author's Note:**

> My Nessian trash heart keeps giving me too many ideas to write down, I know we all love a bit of fluffy/smutty Nessian, but have a bit of angst.  
> I do have some fluffy, smutty plans though, that may or may not include Nesta braiding Cassian's hair, as soon as I can find time to write them.

Nesta paced back and forth in the tent, rubbing her palms on her leathers to try to disguise the sweat starting to form. She popped her head out of the tent, no sign. She waited ten seconds, still no sign. Where were they? Where was _he?_ She shook her head, trying to convince herself that she was being stupid, that they would be back any moment, that they would all be fine. 

Images of war and bloodshed filled her mind, the clash of steel on steel, the cries of dying soldiers, failing wingbeats as the skies emptied. She checked outside again, still no sign. They were supposed to be back an hour ago, she steadied her breaths as she fought the tears threatening to fall, wiping her face, and brushing them away, she wouldn't cry, not where people might see her. 

Bloodstained swords and armor crashed through her mind, their bearers falling from the skies like flies, their faces blurred, until one fell, and fell, and fell, she couldn't tear her gaze away, not until he struck the ground, the impact sending dust all around flying. She forced herself to look, to look past the sword discarded to the side, the blood coating that black armor, the helmet fallen aside, to his face, to look past the blood, the fear, the war, to him.

Cassian.

She stumbled back into the tent, thanking all and any gods that it was empty as she sank to the ground and sobbed, pure undiluted terror racing through her veins. She lost sight of the world around her, left with just that raw grief, she spiraled through every thought she had ever had, every emotion she had ever felt, all the rage, all the fear, hiding the love, hiding the fear, hiding the hate she felt towards herself, hate for not being the one to save her sisters, hate for pushing away anyone who tried to help her, hate for hiding from the one person she should have loved with her whole heart, the one person she couldn't bear the thought of losing, the one person who was now _two hours late._

A wingbeat sounded outside the tent, and Nesta ran outside, wiping her eyes, forcing a smile, all evidence of her fear vanishing at her command. She looked up to the sky, relief quickly turning to horror as three pairs of wings descended slowly, and one careened towards the ground, he was coming in too fast, he'd crash. At the last possible moment, he righted himself, pulling out of the dive to land on his feet, running the last few paces to regain his balance, Feyre, Azriel and Rhysand landing behind him. Nesta only got one glance at her baby sister before Cassian collapsed into her. 

She grunted as she caught him, staggering under his unconscious weight,

"Cass? Cass! Oh gods, oh gods," she could hardly breathe under the crushing weight of the general and his armor, but she didn't care, she only cared that he was alive, alive, and she would make sure he stayed that way. "What happened!" She screamed at no one in particular, "What happened?" She repeated, brushing a lock of hair away from his face, "Is he okay?" Her panicked gaze flickered from person to person, settling on Feyre as her sister stepped towards her, Nesta didn't wait for a response before turning her gaze back to Cassian, "Please be okay," she whispered, "Please be okay,"

"He'll be okay," Feyre said, her voice breaking through the sheen of fear descending over Nesta's mind, "We were ambushed on our way back, he took the brunt of the attack." The tears that she had been fighting for so long began to fall, right in front of her sister, of her sister's mate, of Azriel. She tried to stop, to draw back the tears, but they kept falling, faster and faster, until she sobbed, her strength failing as Rhysand and Azriel took over supporting Cassian and Feyre led Nesta behind them as they carried him to the healer's tent. Nesta couldn't decide if Feyre's presence made everything worse, or better, couldn't decide if she wanted her there, or not. "Nesta," Feyre began, but Nesta didn't hear her, didn't hear anything beyond the rattling breath in his lungs, the blood dripping onto the floor.

"What can I do?" She breathed, desperate for something, something to feel useful, anything to help, to feel anything beyond this abyss of fear, of grief waiting to form, the chasm that she had shied away from for so long, it was creeping up on her, if she didn't move, didn't _do_ something, she would fall. 

"Fetch some water." The healer pointed outside, her magic clearing the blood form Cassian's armor, each stain fading and vanishing under her touch, "Most of it isn't his, now fetch some water." She snapped, stirring Nesta into action.

Nesta stumbled outside, her own breaths catching in her throat as she forced herself to breathe, to calm down. Each time she thought that she was okay, that the panic had subsided, her breaths sped up, until she could hardly force enough air into her lungs to function. She steeled her mind, throwing up wall after wall between her and, everything, between her and feeling anything.

She scooped water in a bucket, almost dropping it as the sight of Cassian splintered all the walls she had thrown up, sending them crashing back down. Feyre took the bucket from her hand, guiding her to sit down at the edge of the tent, but she pushed her away, shoving past Rhysand to reach Cassian's side, tears blurring her vision. Feyre must have brought a chair over because one moment she was standing next to him, and the next she was crying, crying, in front of everyone, her sister a steady presence at her side, squeezing her shoulder gently, just to remind her that she was there, would always be there.

Nesta brushed her fingers through Cassian's hair, Feyre positioning herself between them so that Nesta didn't see when the healers pulled his armor away, didn't see the injuries that it concealed, the miracles that the healers worked, binding flesh back together, bringing him back from the brink of death.

"Take him back to his tent, it'll be quieter there." Nesta followed silently as Rhysand and Azriel carried Cassian between them, leaning on Feyre's shoulder as she walked, her feet heavy, dragging in the mud. She perched on the edge of the bed the moment they set him down, watching his chest rise and fall, reassuring herself that it would continue to do so, that he was okay.

Nesta didn't know when she had fallen asleep. She woke to Cassian's voice,

"Nesta, sweetheart, wake up." She opened her eyes, blinking the sleep out of them, and lifted her head off Cassian's chest gently,

"Sorry," she muttered, "I should-"

"You're allowed to sleep, you know,"

"I know," She huffed, suddenly becoming aware that she was still leaning across his chest, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine."

"This time."

"What?"

"You're _alive_ , this time, not fine, alive, Cass, what happens next time, what happens when you're on your own, what happens if, if-" she couldn't even bring herself to voice her fear, sobbing as he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her as tight as his sore muscles would allow,

"Sweetheart, I'm okay, I'm here." He whispered, 

"But you keep flying off to cauldron knows where, fighting battle after battle, what am _I_ supposed to do when you don't come back?"

"I'm always going to come back,"

"You can't know that. I was scared today, Cass."

"What? Who scared you?" He growled, trying to sit up in the bed,

"You did. You were two hours late, I thought you - I thought you were dead. And I can't, I can't -" she broke off, her hands shaking uncontrollably as tears streaked through the dust on her face, "Don't make me do this, don't make me worry every time you step outside. I know I have no right to, but I can't, I can't lose you, I can't lose someone else I love." Shit. She'd never said it out loud, never. "Cass, I," she never finished her sentence as he lifted his head to meet hers, her tears mingling with his as he kissed her, 

"I thought I would never hear that." She smiled, for the first time in days, and whispered,

"Next time I come with you, then I can look after you."

"Scare off the enemy, more like. You know even the loyal camp-lords are terrified of you, let alone the rebels."

"All the more reason for me to come then," She grinned triumphantly, laughing as he kissed her again, both hands on the sides of her face. She opened, deepening the kiss, and was still smiling when he pulled away, 

"You haven't trained enough."

"Cass-"

"You'll get hurt. You can't fly. You've only actually trained for a month. You haven't had time to learn how Illyrians fight, how they wage war. The best help you can be is here, doing what you already do, making plans, keeping the Night Court from falling apart while we fight. You're not ready for open battle, not yet. Nesta, please, don't fight me on this one, you know I want you there-"

"Then let me come."

"No. You're not ready. If you fight, you die. I won't let that happen. You can make sure that we win, though, you can place us in the best positions, you can save so many lives, Nesta, please, stay here, use your mind to fight, you don't need to wield a sword to devastate our enemies." She frowned, considering,

"You can't come back late. Ever."

"I will do my best."

"Cass,"

"What? Things happen. I promise to try my best to get back on time, to get back uninjured, and to avoid worrying you as much as possible." Nesta huffed, accepting his promise but adding to it,

"Fine, but only if you promise that we _will_ get time, together." He nodded, agreeing instantly, and she smiled before kissing him again, just a quick brush of her lips before he whispered, 

"And, when we finally get some privacy after this damned rebellion, I'll fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name." She swallowed, unable to stop heat from flooding her cheeks as she looked back at him, a hint of amusement blossoming as she grinned,

"You promise?"

"I promise."


End file.
